


Tis the Season to be Tacky

by geriatricsupersoldiers



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2747705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geriatricsupersoldiers/pseuds/geriatricsupersoldiers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Ugly Christmas Sweater Party</b>
  </span>
</p>
<p><b>When</b>: Tomorrow night<br/><b>Where</b>: The Lounge<br/><b>Why</b>: Because it’s fun and festive :)<br/>
(Plus, eggnog—the <em><span class="u">fun</span></em> kind)</p>
<p>Come in your ugliest holiday get-up!<br/>
(Not required, but c’mon don’t be a Scrooge!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tis the Season to be Tacky

**Author's Note:**

> A happy piece of Fitzmack fluff to help alleviate some of the pain the mid-season finale has caused. 
> 
> This is my first fic on AO3, so while I ask for a little lenience if I've failed to adhere to some unspoken AO3 standard or something like that, I'm totally open to your comments and concrit-- as long as you're respectful about it ;)

It was Mack’s idea.

Well, technically it was Skye’s idea, but Mack was the one who somehow convinced Fitz to go along with it, so if there was anyone to blame, it was him.

**Ugly Christmas Sweater Party**

**When** : Tomorrow night  
 **Where** : The Lounge  
 **Why** : Because it’s fun and festive :)  
(Plus, eggnog—the _fun_ kind)

Come in your ugliest holiday get-up!  
(Not required, but c’mon don’t be a Scrooge!)

Fitz found the announcement stuck to the refrigerator door when he went to grab the milk for his bowl of cereal. It was handwritten (by Skye, if the smiley face was any indication) and fixed to the door with randomly selected “S” and “Q” magnets, the remainder of the alphabet pushed to one side and the dirty words that had been there the day before disassembled.

He didn’t think much of it as he sat at the breakfast bar and munched sleepily on his breakfast until Mack shuffled into the room, making a B line to the coffee pot before greeting Fitz with a peck on the cheek.

“Glad to see you’re up. I was starting to think you were going to sleep the entire-- the whole day away,” Fitz spoke in between bites.

“Sleep the day away? Gimme a break, Turbo, it’s only 8:30. Not all of us are up and at ‘em so easy without our morning caffeine.” He offered a nod to the coffee pot, still gurgling away as it brewed.

To that, Fitz smirked as well as he could with a mouth full of cereal. He hadn’t even been awake and out of bed for that much longer than Mack. Hadn’t even showered and dressed himself in something other than his Star Trek PJs, but he liked to tease. By the way Mack was struggling to keep his lips from curling up into an appreciative grin, Fitz could tell that he didn’t mind.

The coffee maker fell silent, signaling that the pot was full of fresh, hot caffeinated goodness. Mack eagerly reached for his extra-large mug that was still in the dish strainer after the previous day's morning brew and filled it as full as he could while still leaving room for creamer. Turning to the fridge, he froze for a moment to give Skye's handwritten flyer the once-over. “What’s the story with this?”

“Oh, some-- some Christmas thing that Skye's doing, I guess?”

“I'm gonna have to dig out my Christmas sweater-- and my sister said I would never need to have them with me.” He shook his head with a quiet chuckle. It was safe to say that Mack was considerably more excited by the thought of wearing tacky Christmas clothing than Fitz was.

“You own an ugly Christmas jumper?” Fitz almost couldn't believe it. He tried to imagine Mack in a gaudy, wooly, red and green jumper, but he honestly couldn't picture it. “ _And_ you actually brought it here with you?”

“Three, actually. Just in case.” He shrugged as he took a seat next to Fitz, steaming coffee mug in hand.

“Just in case of _what_?”

“Well, an ugly sweater party, for one thing.” He grinned smugly over the rim of his mug before taking a gulp.

Fitz scoffed. “As if you ever expected _that_ to happen when you signed on with a secret-- a, uh, secret--”

“A super secret spy club? Maybe, maybe not. But aren't I lucky that I brought them anyway?” Before Fitz could counter with 'if that's what you want to call it,' Mack continued. “I take it you don't have one of your own with you?”

“I don't have one of my own, at all,” he announced with a hint of indignation.

And that, Mack just could not believe. “You mean to tell me that Leo Fitz, man of a million adorable, cozy sweaters, has never owned a Christmas sweater? Not even a non-ugly one?”

“Actually, my mum did give me one for Christmas when I was a, uh, a-- when I was younger, but I never wore it, so she never got me another.” He cringed slightly at the memory of that ridiculous snowman with googly eyes and puff balls for buttons.

“Well, don't worry, Turbo, you can borrow one of mine.” Mack clapped him gently on the back on his way to pour a second cup of his morning caffeine.

“Wha-- borrow one of yours for what?”

“The party.” The “duh” went unspoken.

“It says it's optional,” Fitz gestures firmly in the direction of the refrigerator. “Besides, I'd look-- it'd-- it would be way too big.”

“So? You wear my clothes all the time.”

“Yes, in the privacy of your room or mine. Not out in the open where people can see me wearing my boyfriend's shirts without much else.”

Mack smirked at the light blush that rose on Fitz's cheeks. “Well, you'd probably have to wear pants to the party. I don't think _those_ are optional.” And Fitz didn't even dignify that with a response. Nothing beyond a grimace, at least. “Aw c'mon Turbo. Where's your Christmas spirit? You're not a Scrooge, are you?”

And no, Fitz didn't _want_ to be a Scrooge or a Grinch or any other sort of holiday spoil-sport, for that matter. Especially not when Mack was obviously pretty into the whole 'ugly sweater' tradition. So, after feigning a moment of consideration, if only to reassure himself that he hadn’t given in too easily, Fitz agreed to take a look at Mack's sweaters. “Only to take a look. I'm not-- I won’t promise to wear one, yet.”

\---

His options were not ideal. “You pick whichever one you want, and I’ll choose between the other two.” Mack’s voice was muffled as he fished the three sweaters out from a box under his bed. They all looked equally ugly (and itchy) from where Fitz was standing.

He took a small step forward to inspect them a little more closely after Mack laid them out proudly on his bed.

Sweater number one was green with red stripes, and a large reindeer head knitted into the front. No googly eyes, thank god, but it also didn’t have a red nose, and Fitz thought, if you’re going to wear a reindeer jumper, it may as well be Rudolph.

Sweater number two was far more tasteful in its gray color, but that’s where it ended. The front was adorned with an image of Santa Claus’s face, rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes and an obnoxious amount of white fluff for a beard.

Lastly, sweater number three was bright red with a design that looked like multi-colored lights strung around the entire thing, winding up the sleeves and across the torso. Nothing was sparkly or fluffy or _googly_ , and it could’ve just been the way it was folded, but Fitz swore it looked slightly smaller than the other two.

In the end, he decided that number three was the lesser of the evils, and Mack opted for the non-Rudolph reindeer.

\---

Fitz rolled up the sleeves on the enormous sweater as he and Mack made their way into the lounge where there was already boisterous conversation being made over the festive music. The damn things kept falling back down his arms, covering his hands entirely, and he grumbled for the hundredth time that he felt ridiculous.

“It’s cute,” Mack assured him just as he had the previous 99 times and slung an arm around his shoulders. Once they entered the lounge and got a good look at the others, though, they both stopped in their tracks.

The whole team was there, but there were very few ugly sweaters to be seen. Skye was wearing one, of course. It looked homemade, even, with rhinestones and puff balls covering the Christmas tree that had been painted on the front.

Coulson was wearing a tie that lit up with tiny Christmas lights, and Trip had a festive scarf hanging around his neck and a Santa hat on his head.

May-- well, neither of them had expected May to participate, anyway-- Hunter, Bobbi and even Jemma, who Fitz _knew_ owned at least one Christmas cardigan, were in their normal, everyday clothing.

“That’s it. I’m changing.” Fitz made to turn and flee before Mack grabbed him by the shoulders.

“No, no, no. Not so fast, Turbo. I thought we came to have a little fun? Get into the holiday spirit and whatnot?”

“I look stupid. No one else is wearing one of these-- these ridiculous jumpers.” He gestured vaguely toward their teammates who were scattered around the room.

“That’s not true. Skye is.” Mack smirked, but Fitz was not amused.

“That doesn’t count. It’s Skye’s party, of course she’s all--” He completed his thought by waving his hand around in her general direction.

“Fitz, listen,” Mack gently cupped the sides of his face in his hands to keep Fitz from looking away. “You don’t look stupid. You look adorable-- a whole hell of a lot better than all of these party-poopers who didn’t even try, that’s for sure.” Fitz rolled his eyes, clearly trying to hold back a bashful grin. “Now what do you say we have some eggnog, hang out with our friends for a little while, then we can go back to my room and I’ll help you out of that sweater?”

“Well,” Fitz glanced up at him with a devilish expression. “I suppose so. As long as I can help _you_ out of yours, as well. Those reindeer eyes staring at me might be a bit of mood-killer.”

 


End file.
